Trashed and Scattered

Peyton slid a beer to her former friend, trying her best not to get lost in the depth of his character. He happily snatched up the bottle and cracked it open with a satisfying hiss. She sipped at her own, letting her eyes fall down his arm as he set the drink onto the wooden table.
"So how did you meet her?" she dared to ask.
He looked up at her with innocence, unsure whether she was asking out of curiosity or jealousy.
"We met at a bar," he shrugged.
She let herself laugh shallowly; of course they'd met at a bar. Every great couple in history got their start in a bar, right? Isn't that how all fairy tales started out?
"Don't be mean," he smirked.
"I'm not," she chuckled. "I'm being entertained."
He rolled his eyes, "You've never met a guy at a bar?"
"Of course I have," she countered. "But I've never dated any of the guys I brought home from bars."
He cocked an eyebrow, "Maybe that's why you're single."
Her amusement faded away in the blink of an eye. She took another swig of beer to wash away the bitter taste he'd left in her mouth.
"How long have you been together?" she asked next, moving passed the pseudo insult.
"Three years," he replied simply.
She was shocked to hear it had been so long. A part of her had assumed, for whatever reason, that their relationship wasn't serious. Perhaps it was because Jimmy had been so eager to abandon the sanctity of monogamy. His desire to get himself between her hips had planted a seed of confusion into the paradigm.
"So you love her then," Peyton deduced with an emptiness clinging to her thought.
He nodded, seemingly ashamed of his own feelings.
"I see," she breathed, letting that depressing new revelation sink deep into her skin like a regrettably misspelled tattoo.
He took a sip from his drink, "Have you been in love?"
"I guess," Peyton sighed, spinning the bottle between her palms slowly. "Once."
"Who was it?" Jimmy asked curiously, desperate to ease his guilt with a commonality.
He was reeling. It had been a pressing question in his conflicted mind: if he'd known Peyton would come back one day, would he have let himself fall in love? Moreover, if he could feel this way for Peyton...did he love Natalie at all? It was all too deep and it was far too real.
Peyton slid her bottom lip beneath her fang, the very thought of her dead love rippling her control into pain.
"His name was Jared," she finally said.
Jimmy raised his brows, urging her to give him something he could work with. Her reluctance was palpable.
"We, uh," she paused to clear her throat of the awkward tension caught within int. "We dated for four years...Off and on. It was one of those."
He nodded knowingly. He hadn't, himself, trudged through an on-again-off-again relationship, but his friends had had their fair shares. He'd lived vicariously through Matt's inability to let go of his first love, a shy and introverted girl. They fought about Matt's bad habits and he refused to give into the appeal of monogamy. With women throwing themselves at his dimples, he was unable to turn the opportunities down. It was a shame, too, Jimmy had always thought. They made a great pairing when Matt wasn't behaving like a twat.
"So what happened?" Jimmy asked curiously.
She shrugged, "We broke up."
"I got that," he laughed sharply. "Was this recent?"
"Not so recent that it's important anymore," she replied hastily.
Jimmy had the sense that something was wrong. Maybe it was the distressed wrinkles that had pooled themselves into her forehead, or maybe it was the passive look in her otherwise lively eyes. Something about the mention of this 'Jared's name had Peyton recoiled.
"Was he a shit?" Jimmy pressed lightly.
Peyton narrowed her gaze, slightly annoyed by Jimmy's questions.
"I want to know about your life," he answered without her having to ask. "And if you loved this guy, then he was important to you at some point...I'm just trying to fill in the blanks and shit."
Peyton supposed that was what friends did. Joanna knew all of the inner workings of Peyton's life; Peyton had refused to be one of those people that let inner turmoil eat at them until there was nothing left but bones. She'd trusted Jimmy once, she reminded herself. He'd once held all of her secrets and he'd guarded them with the utmost care.
While they were children, anyway. Apparently he'd went around spreading the good word to anyone and everyone once the hands of time had turned them to adults.
She tried not to let that eat her alive.
"What do you want to know?" she asked cautiously.
"How'd you meet?"
"Um...We met at a convention," she said, her mind floating back to the crowds of the day. "It was back in New York. He was...is...a talented artist. He's pretty highly revered."
Jimmy smiled, "So are you."
"Yeah...But I was still a student back then," she reminisced. "I was in my first year at Yale. I was a client of his...And we just kind of hit it off, I guess."
Jared had pushed Peyton to become better. He had hopes for her and she didn't want to disappoint him. He was, undoubtedly, the reason she'd gotten into tattooing in the first place. She'd admired his work and had seen such beauty in his pieces that she longed to create the brilliance herself. There's something ordinarily permanent about tattoos--about art--that she was keen to try out.
"He was a really great guy," she continued, pausing only to take a steep drink. "He was funny, charismatic, really supportive of my schooling...He was like a fuckin' dream guy...at first."
Jimmy's interest was peaked.
"We'd been together for almost two years when he started to change," she sighed. "He got a little controlling...Really hyper-focused on my life. You know, that usual bullshit where they want to know where you are, who you're with, what you're doing."
Jimmy nodded, the description hitting home a little more than he'd liked. Natalie had slowly been morphing herself into that very mold over the last year. He'd told himself it was because they were finding success and with that came jealousy. He refused to believe it was more than that. He told himself she'd fade back into her former self once things grew to a new normalcy.
"I got fucking sick to death of it," she groaned. "So, I broke it off...But he was charming, Jimmy. I tell you. He had this way about him...In hindsight, the guy's a psychopath."
She let herself laugh, letting the sound of her own amusement smooth over the humiliation of her naivety.
"Why?" Jimmy asked slowly, afraid of the answer he knew was coming.
"I'm a magnet for abusive shit, I guess," she grunted with an eye roll.
"No," Jimmy replied quietly through his clenched jaw.
She shrugged her shoulders, "It didn't get physical until the last year we were together. It's funny, you know, because I figured after everything with my mother that I'd never tolerate that kind of shit again...But I always believed his apologies. I believed he'd change."
Jimmy's heart was breaking apart.
"He got black out angry one night," she told him, her brows furrowed with the shame of it. "And just...went to fucking town on my poor face. After that, I realized I was pathetic. I don't mean that in the stereotypical, woe is me, kind of way either," she laughed awkwardly. "I just...I realized that I was letting myself become a victim again. And it wasn't healthy. And I didn't deserve it. So, I gave him the boot, moved out of my apartment, changed my number...Haven't had a problem since."
Jimmy wasn't sure what to say. He had this pounding ache in his skull berating him for not being there. For not protecting her. Some things, he knew instantly, never changed. His impulse to shield her from the world hadn't died when she'd left. Even after the fact, he was dying to go and stab that guy in the chest.
"I'm so fucking sorry, Lexi," he frowned, tripping over his use of her nickname.
"It's fine," she sighed. "It took a while, but I'm over it. I have a really great friend back home who did all the damage control that I couldn't do. It just is what it is at this point."
"You don't deserve that shit," he pouted, masking his anger with sadness.
"Cycle of abuse, I guess," she laughed nervously.
He nodded.
"I haven't dated since," she told him, finishing off her beer and heading to the fridge for a refill.
Jimmy's eyes widened, "At all?"
She laughed, grinning over at him, "Don't get me wrong, Wiley. I have my share of...casual encounters. But no boyfriends. I don't think I want a boyfriend ever again. No one is ever what they seem."
"That's not always true," Jimmy countered lightly. "Not everyone is full of shit."
"Sure they are," she rebutted, shutting the fridge door and plopping herself back down into the wooden chair. "It isn't always intentional, I guess. But...No one knows anything. I don't know anyone; I don't even know myself. Not really."
Jimmy raised an inquisitive brow.
She sighed, smiling a little, "I know pieces of people. I know what people want me to know. But I don't know what's going through their minds; I don't know what they're really thinking and feeling. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm really feeling, you know? If you really knew someone, you'd never be caught off guard. They'd never shock you. Like if you really knew yourself, how could you ever surprise yourself? I'm always surprising myself...Which I guess means I don't know myself at all."
Jimmy blinked at her, "You're talking in circles, man. I'm too drunk for this shit."
"All I'm saying," she laughed. "Is that you'll never understand someone. Not really. And if I can't understand someone, I can't trust them."
"You trusted me once," he offered bravely.
She nodded, "I loved you too."
It was like taking a bullet. The words surprised him as they stung.
"But we were kids," she added. "And kids are stupid."
He laughed.
"I'm not stupid anymore," she informed him, narrowing her eyes as she took the first sip of her new beer. "I never want to be stupid again."
"You've never been stupid, Peyton," he countered warmly. "I didn't have to be around for the last few years to tell you that."
She shrugged, "Maybe I'll surprise you."
"Maybe you will," he nodded with a grin. "Or maybe you won't. Maybe we know each other better than you think we do...Even after all this time."
She let that sink in for a second. There was something undeniable about their chemistry; the way her mind settled into ease as she spoke with him. Something about his eyes calmed her, baiting her into spilling all of her secrets and inner demons. He'd been trustworthy once...But didn't seem to be now. It wasn't lost on her that he'd completely abandoned Natalie's trust in him for one night with her. That was something she'd never expect from Wiley; and was disappointed to expect from Jimmy.
So, she pushed that undeniable destiny down and focused on the present. And presently, she was still pissed as hell.
"You're right," she snickered. "Too drunk for this shit."
"I'm sorry your life was hell," he frowned. "And I'm sorry I added to it today."
She hesitated, "Why didn't you just tell her we know each other?"
"Because," he countered quickly. "You told me not to blow my life up. If Natalie finds out that you're Lexi, she'll lose her fuckin' mind, man. No way would she let us be friends...The Brian lie actually kind of worked to my benefit, I guess."
"That Brian seems like a good guy," Peyton noted deviously.
Jimmy nodded, "He's the best. But I'm sorry I pawned you off onto him...I didn't know what else to do."
"It's fine," she sighed. "We had a good time together, believe it or not."
"I believe it," he replied, trying not to let his jealousy show.
"So...We're secret friends then?" Peyton asked, working to figure out the plan.
He breathed, "For now. I promise I'll tell her in time...When I know what the fuck I'm doing. I'll be straight with you, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. You've kind of," he paused to laugh nervously, "Fucked up my brain a bit."
She pointed her beer toward him, "Ditto."
"Let's just enjoy our time together," he suggested with a smile that made Peyton's knees weak. "And figure it out as we go."
"Okay, Jimmy," she agreed, because pushing him away would have wrecked her.
She was alright to be selfish. She'd keep him close by any means possible. It didn't matter if they could never kiss again--could never be intimate. The blue tint of his eyes was all the reassurance she'd ever need to wade through the confusing waters. She just wanted to be near to him.
"I'm really glad you're home," he told her fondly. "It's been way too long."
She nodded in agreement, "We've missed too much."
"I'm not going to miss anything else," he declared. "Consider me an octopus on your fucking face. You can try and peel me off, but I've got tentacles and shit. It's going to be more work than it's worth; so...you're better off to just let me ink on you and shit."
Peyton grimaced at the visual, which only made Jimmy laugh.
She snickered softly, memorizing the way his nose would crinkle when he'd laugh. It was the same face that had helped to give birth to the name Wiley in the first place. She loved that fucking face.
"I've missed you," she smiled. "And your weird, weird brain."
"It's not that weird," he grinned. "Yours is way weirder."
They stayed up all night, basking in the newfound friendship they were absently working to form. There was no pouncing; no crossing of any lines. For the first time in both their adult lives, they felt connected to another human being.
But they both pushed it aside in favor of something more permanent. Something sustainable.
Neither knew what the fuck they were doing--but so long as they were doing it together, the rest was semantics. Nothing else mattered.
They'd figure it out as they went along.

Notes

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